


An Ode to the Forgotten

by Lufelitan



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16083806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lufelitan/pseuds/Lufelitan
Summary: It's been 15 years since the end of the Second World War in Europe, but some ghosts of the past still remain.





	1. Silent Footsteps

**Author's Note:**

> While I have tried my best to research the topics present in this fic, I am not familiar enough with them for there to not be any inaccuracies. If you spot any, feel free to correct me and/or post a link so I can edit and research things further. Keep in mind some things may have been adjusted for storytelling purposes. Nothing is intended to offend any demographic.
> 
> Thank you for reading.

Ludwig sighed enviously as he pulled his car into the driveway of Arthur’s house. He’d always dreamed of living in the English countryside. He longed for some tranquility and solitude instead of the noise and overcrowding of London. Maybe he’d adopt a little dog to play fetch with him in the backyard. As he stepped out of the car, he took a deep breath of the cool evening air and gazed over the rolling hills of jade-green grass. The sun hung low in the sky as some stars had already made their appearance. In the distance was a small village whose street lights glowed against the dim horizon. It was here that Ludwig found a rare peace within himself. He wondered what it would be like to spend every day like this.

He tore himself away from the enchanting sight and walked towards the front porch. This house wasn’t as old as the ones in the village, but it still had a rustic charm that Ludwig enjoyed. The walls were made of earthy red bricks, covered in some places by night-blooming Moonflower vines, and the roof was built from a dark-colored wood. A small moth was fluttering around the porch light, which Ludwig was quick to shoo off. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. After wiping the mud from his shoes, he stepped inside.

The interior of the house was just as appealing as the outside, with pale yellow wallpaper and old-fashioned furniture. Arthur had decorated the couch with a few hand-embroidered pillows and placed a bookcase brimming with classic literature against the wall. It was more of a home than Ludwig’s London apartment could ever be. The only thing that bothered him was the light layer of dust covering every surface. He made a mental note to lecture Arthur about that later.

Muffled shuffling came from the master bedroom. Ludwig walked to the bedroom door and knocked, receiving a high-pitched yelp from behind it.

The door swung open to reveal Arthur, with his hair mussed and dark circles under his eyes. “Bloody hell, mate. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you? I didn’t even hear you come in!”

Ludwig was more concerned with Arthur‘s disheveled appearance than his current mood. “Are you alright? You look tired.” Arthur waved his hand in dismissal.

“I’m fine. I've just had trouble sleeping lately, that's all. Would you like to come inside?” He stepped back and allowed Ludwig to walk into the bedroom.

The first thing Ludwig noticed was the bulletin board on the wall. Pinned up to it was a collage of newspaper headlines about claimed paranormal encounters, diagrams of ghosts and demons, and ‘scientific’ papers about the afterlife. He stared at it as he sat on the bed.

“Do you like it?” Arthur asked. “I bought the board about a week ago. Thought I’d put all my stuff where I can see it.”

Ludwig nodded. He was more than aware of Arthur’s eccentricities. He’d never really believed in the supernatural, but after all that Arthur had done for him, the least he could do was humor him and his antics. “Have you found anything new recently?”

Arthur faced the board and pointed to one of the headlines. “Yes, actually. I found a news story about this residual haunting in Hampshire.”

He proceeded to babble on about the things he’s read since Ludwig’s last visit. Ludwig zoned out almost immediately, nodding occasionally to give the impression he was still listening. He had to admit one thing to himself: Arthur was an attractive man. Even in his tired state, he maintained the image of a calm and collected gentleman, which was betrayed by his bitter and sarcastic personality. Sure, he could be spacey at times, but he was hard-working all the same. The best part was that they understood each other. They understood what it was like to want to be alone sometimes. Despite turning 30 in a few months, Ludwig felt like a young schoolgirl fawning over his closest friend like this. He’d been wrestling with these sort of feelings since his early teens, yet they never seemed to relent.

Ludwig’s back and limbs ached from work. All day he‘d been changing tires and repairing automotive engines. Because of this, the bed beneath him seemed quite comfortable at the moment. He shifted his position to lie down with his head on the foot of the bed. He kept nodding whenever Arthur paused to see if he was paying attention, but eventually the softness of the comforter and physical exhaustion from work lulled him into sleep.

 

A gentle knocking echoed through the house, rousing Ludwig from his sleep. He opened his eyes and felt something draped over his legs and torso. It took his drowsy mind a few seconds to recognize it as a blanket. He figured Arthur must’ve pulled it over him after he fell asleep. Ludwig refused to move. It was dark, it was cold, and his body was still sore. The knocking started again, louder this time, followed by Arthur’s irritated yelling.

Ludwig heard the creaking of the front door. Curious and a bit anxious as to who would come to Arthur's house so late at night, he stood up and dragged himself into bedroom door. He peered down the hall and into the living room to see Arthur holding the door open for a man unknown to Ludwig.

The stranger had a round face, short stature, and a leather backpack slung over his shoulders. A snow-white Maltese puppy lay sleeping in his arms. Ludwig noticed that the stranger made no sound as he moved around the living room. As he walked, there was silence instead of the expected soft thudding whenever his feet made contact with the floor.

“How long’s it been, Arthur?” The stranger said. A light foreign accent tinted his voice. “Must have been years.”

“I was hoping it’d be a little longer than that,” Arthur responded. The stranger giggled.

“Now, now. I thought you’d appreciate the effort I put into finding you again. Besides, this is more than just a friendly visit.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. He closed the door and double-locked it. He whispered, “Alright, just keep it down, will you? I have a guest in the other room, and I don’t need him knowing about this.”

The stranger nodded and lowered his voice. Ludwig strained to hear what he said next. “The Red Army is coming. They've just entered from Scotland. They should be here in a few days.”

“No worries, then. I’ve dodged them before, I can do it again.”  
  
“You can‘t just run away like that. You are still close to that German boy, aren‘t you?”  
  
Arthur hesitated before responding. “Of course. He’s the only family I‘ve got left.”  
  
“Then how are you going to explain moving away without warning? What are you going to do if they find him and you’re not around to appease them?”  
  
“Then what the hell am I supposed to-”  
  
The stranger shushed him, for his voice had risen in frustration. “I know this sounds crazy, but I can take you to them. The summoner they have now is useless. I’m sure if you just do a few favors for them, they’ll let you go.”  
  
“And how do you know that?”

“I don’t.” The stranger admitted. “But it’ll be better to negotiate now than to put someone you love at risk later. You can trust me on that.”  
  
Arthur looked down at the floor and sighed.  
  
“I leave work tomorrow at five in the evening. You can take me to them then.”  
  
The stranger nodded. He scratched the Maltese behind the ear as he said his goodbyes to Arthur and unlocked the door. After the stranger walked outside, Arthur shut the door and leaned against it, cursing under his breath.  
  
Arthur started walking back down the hallway. His posture stiffened when he met Ludwig’s eyes.  
  
“Ludwig!” he exclaimed. “Oh God, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”  
  
“No,” Ludwig lied. “I woke up just now. I need to use the lavatory.”  
  
Arthur relaxed. “Alright, you know where that is. You fell asleep without eating dinner, so there are some leftovers in the fridge if you want them.”

Ludwig thanked him, but food was the last thing on his mind at the moment. As Arthur walked into the guest bedroom and closed the door behind him, Ludwig made his way into the bathroom.

He turned on the sink faucet and splashed his face with cold water. He gasped as the icy chill hit his skin. Now he had assured himself that he was awake and not in some bizarre dream. As he dried himself off with a towel, millions of questions flooded his head. What was all this talk about the Red Army? Why was Arthur involved? Why did this stranger seem to know who he was?

Irrational conclusions of Soviet bomb threats and possible hallucinations clouded his mind. So much that it took him a few seconds to notice the sink was nearly overflowing. When he did, he quickly turned the faucet off and watched as the water swirled back down the drain, taking his thoughts and anxieties with it.

He walked back into the master bedroom and nearly passed out onto the bed. All of his worries and questions were displaced by feelings of fatigue. As he slept, he dreamt of Maltese puppies and silent footsteps.


	2. Ludwig's Suspicions

_June 1945_

_London, England_

_“You know you don’t have to wash dishes with me, right?”_

_Ludwig looked at Mrs. Kirkland as he scrubbed the stains off of a dinner plate. “I know.” He rinsed the suds down the sink and set the plate on a rack to air-dry. “But it is the least I can do after you and your husband let me stay here.”_

_“It was no trouble at all, dearie,” Mrs. Kirkland assured. She was a short, good-humored woman with long red hair, a face covered in freckles, and a thick Scottish brogue. “I really think you should be out playing football with the other boys.”_

_Faint yelling came from the backyard; the Kirkland brothers seemed to have been playing a rather passionate game. “I would love too, but I do not think they like me much.” He recalled the nights spent sleeping on the floor because of the brothers’ refusal to share a bed with him._

_“Ah, they’re just being wee brats, that’s all. Just give them some time, they’ll warm up to you.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_Mrs. Kirkland nodded and placed a kiss on Ludwig’s cheek. “Absolutely.”_

_Ludwig couldn’t help smiling to himself. He was quickly getting accustomed to how affectionate Mrs. Kirkland could be. Despite not being his birth mother, she treated him like her own son. The war had taken his old family away, and her words gave him hope that, someday, he would find a place in this new one._

 

Ludwig awoke to the sound of Arthur cursing and the smell of something burning. Violent crackling filled the air as thoughts of a house fire invaded his head. He threw off the covers and ran out of the bedroom in a blind panic. He couldn‘t spot any smoke or flames, and the smell seemed to be coming from the kitchen.

When he entered the kitchen, the first thing he saw was Arthur lifting a smoking skillet from the stove. The crackling settled as he turned off the burner and set the skillet aside.

“It’s a little early to start a fire, isn’t it?” Ludwig commented. Arthur turned around, seeming indignant.

“Oh, hush,” he said. “I was making myself a fry-up and overcooked it a bit, that’s all.” Ludwig looked down at the skillet and its contents. The egg whites were blackened and shriveled up around their yolks, the tomatoes were dried to a crisp, and the sausages were darkened beyond recognition. He tried his best to stifle a moment of laughter.

Arthur smacked the back of Ludwig’s head. “Shut up! I just got lost in thought and got distracted. Doesn’t mean I’m a bad cook.”

He grabbed a plate from one of the cabinets and scraped the ruined fry-up from the pan with a spatula. “I made another one for you earlier. It’s in the dining room. Go eat it before it gets cold.”

Arthur opened a drawer and pulled out a fork. He stabbed it into a burnt sausage and placed it into his mouth with an audible crunch. Ludwig watched as he sauntered out of sight, presumably to eat in his room.

Ludwig sighed. He was hoping to bring up what happened last night. He walked from the kitchen and into the dining room. There was another fry-up on the table. It wasn’t burnt like the one Arthur had made for himself, but it was still greasy and generally unappetizing. Still, his stomach growled at the sight of it. He couldn’t stand the thought of skipping two meals in a row.

He sat at the table and picked at his meal slowly, for last night’s conversation echoed in his mind.  It felt so surreal, like a daydream. Part of him questioned whether it happened at all.

After he finished eating, he looked at the grandfather clock on the wall. It was almost eight o‘clock. Knowing Arthur would have to leave for work soon, Ludwig put his plate in the sink and walked back to the master bedroom to say goodbye.

The door to the master bedroom was closed.

As he opened the door and looked inside, he saw Arthur suddenly stand up from the bed and hide something behind his back.

“Dear God, man. What’s with you and sneaking up on me?

“I didn’t mean to, I was just…” Ludwig’s voice trailed off as he studied the state of the room. An open suitcase lay on the bed, overflowing with clothes and toiletries. The bulletin board Arthur had been so proud to show him had been cleared of its supernatural paraphernalia, leaving behind a blank corkboard space.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Packing,” Arthur answered. The way he spoke sounded almost rehearsed.  “I’m going on holiday in West Berlin.”

“You never told me anything about traveling.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind.”

“What’s that behind your back?”

Arthur’s eyes widened as if he didn’t notice what he was doing. He put his hands in front of him to reveal what he was holding. It was a rectangular item, about the size of a book or small picture frame, wrapped in brown paper and string. “I’m going to visit one of Dad’s old military mates. This is a gift for his hospitality. Just a common courtesy, really.”

He tossed the parcel into the suitcase and closed it. He dragged the suitcase off the bed with both hands, only to have it slip away and fall to the floor with a thud.

“Ugh. Do me a favor and carry this to the car, will you?”

“You’re leaving now?”

“Of course. My flight takes off in a few hours.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What’s with all these damn questions? I just forgot, that’s all.”

Ludwig didn’t believe him. After what he saw last night, he wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

“Now, are you going to help me or not?”

Ludwig hesitated before finally picking up the suitcase. It seemed far too heavy for a simple vacation. After following Arthur into the garage, he decided it was time for some answers.

“I saw what happened last night.”

Arthur paused as he inserted the key to unlock the trunk of the car. “Whatever do you mean?” he said with a nervous lilt in his voice.

“I saw you talking to someone. About going to make a deal with the Red Army, or something like that.”

Arthur laughed awkwardly. “That’s quite a story you’ve got there, chap. Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”

“Arthur!” Ludwig shouted. “You are one of the worst liars I’ve ever met! I know what I saw, and I’m willing to bet this trip to West Berlin has something to do with it.”

“Oh, bugger off, will you? At least I’m not the one eavesdropping on other people’s conversations! I’m dealing with a serious matter here. It’s for the best you don’t get involved.”

Arthur took the suitcase from Ludwig’s hands, shoved it into the trunk, closed it, and stomped off to the garage door before Ludwig could respond. As he lifted the garage door above his head, the whole world came to a standstill.

A man with a Maltese puppy was standing in the driveway.


	3. Unfinished Explanations

It was the first time Ludwig had seen the stranger in the light. His hair was a sandy blonde and looked as if it had been cut by a dull knife. His clothes included a brown pair of weathered snow boots, fingerless gloves, and a black jacket that hung loosely off his body. A long, black case lay upright on the ground beside him, leaving Ludwig to wonder about its contents. The backpack hanging from his shoulders looked like it had traveled the world many times. Given the stranger’s unconventional appearance, Ludwig pondered how Arthur would come to know a man like this.

“Bastard!” Arthur shouted at him from the garage door. “I thought I told you to come at five!”

The stranger picked up the black case and walked into the garage, and the Maltese followed obediently. Once again, his footsteps were silent, almost as if he were floating along the floor. “Relax, Arthur. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t run off on me. At this point, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Arthur crossed his arms. “I’ll have you know I was just leaving for work.”

“Is that so?” The stranger’s eyes widened when he made eye contact with Ludwig, as if just noticing his presence for the first time. He approached Ludwig, looking him up and down with a scrutinizing glare. A sense of discomfort arose in Ludwig as he felt like a bug being inspected under a magnifying glass. As the stranger moved closer, Ludwig noticed a thin white scar that stretched from the bridge of his nose to his right earlobe. “And who might you be?” the stranger asked. After Ludwig awkwardly gave the man his name, the stranger broke into a smile.

“Ah, you must be the German boy! I thought I’d never get the chance to meet you. My name’s Tino, I’m an old acquaintance of Arthur’s.” Tino offered his hand for Ludwig to shake it. When Ludwig took it, a chill ran up his arm. Tino’s hand was ice-cold. He was probably standing outside for a while, Ludwig told himself. No need to make any rash conclusions.

“Now, us Germans and Finns have quite the history together. Co-belligerence during the war and all that. I‘d like to consider you a friend. So tell me, is Arthur telling the truth? Is he really not running off?”

Part of Ludwig wanted to keep quiet for Arthur’s sake. Another part knew that telling Tino the truth may lead to him discovering what Arthur had been keeping from him all this time. The latter sounded more appealing. “He’s leaving for West Berlin,” he admitted. “He was about to head to the airport.”

Tino turned to Arthur. “On the run from the Reds, I see. And here I thought you weren’t a coward.”

“Oh, come off it, will you? You know why I’m leaving. You can’t reason with people like that.” Arthur leaned against the car. “I’m not going to wait for them to find me, and I’m definitely not going to negotiate with them willingly.”

“In that case,” Tino said, “I need to ask a favor of you.”

“What?”

“If you’re going to run, I better start heading down south myself then. I don’t want to be here when Braginsky gets the bad news. But, seeing as I’m without money, I could use your help.” Tino gestured to the car for emphasis.

“What do you expect me to do? Buy you an aeroplane ticket?”

“Pretty much. Preferably one to West Berlin.”

“No way! I’m already going to be in debt from buying my own ticket, why should I shell out another 50 pounds for yours?”

Tino laughed dryly. “You and I both know you owe me much more than an aeroplane ticket.” The two glared at each other, trying to intimidate the other into giving in. After a few seconds, Arthur sighed and bowed his head.

“Yeah, I suppose I do.”

Tino smirked. “I knew there was a bit of decency left in you.” He opened the car door and placed his backpack and black case into the back seat.

“Wait a minute!” Ludwig exclaimed. “If both of you are leaving for West Berlin, then I want to know why. What is your business with the Red Army? Why are they after you? Why haven’t you bothered telling me about any of this?”

Tino looked up from the car, first at Ludwig, then at Arthur. “You haven’t told him?” he asked.

“Of course not, the last thing I want is him getting involved.”

“He’s always been involved, Arthur. He deserves to know.”

Tino shut the door and walked towards Ludwig. “The current situation is, shall I say, complicated. Firstly, the Red Army we’re talking about isn’t the Soviet Union’s army. It’s more of a nickname for a group of people. They’re a lot like the Russian Mob, in a sense. Its members are violent and ruthless. Should you ever come across them, which I pray to God you won’t, do whatever you can to leave. They have a nasty grudge against Germans, especially their leader, Colonel Braginsky.”

Tino had gotten uncomfortably close, forcing Ludwig to step back.  “Braginsky is the worst of all of them. You know that village close by? Imagine if it were to catch fire. Your first response would probably be to call the fire brigade. If you were brave enough, maybe you’d run in and try to save someone. Braginsky, however, wouldn’t do any of that. He’d be the one to start that fire. To him, the screams of innocent people and the smell of burning flesh are as sweet as milk and honey.”

Tino took another step forward, and Ludwig found himself pressed against the wall. When he met Tino’s eyes, they were cold and lifeless. For a man with such a friendly young face, he was pretty disturbing.

“Braginsky is much like a spoiled child. He feels entitled to anything he wants, and he will go to any length to get it. As it just so happens, he wants something of Arthur’s. Two things, if you want to be technical. You see, Arthur has an _unorthodox_ talent. He has the ability to-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Arthur interrupted. “No need to give the poor man a heart attack. The flight leaves in three hours. Are you coming or not?”

“Yeah,” Tino said, looking disappointed he couldn’t finish his speech.

“I want to come too,” Ludwig added.

“What? No! The only reason I’m going on this bloody flight is so you don’t have to deal with this mess. It’s my problem, why can’t you just stay out of it?”

Ludwig didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason for wanting to leave with Arthur. All he had was a perplexing ball of emotions tightly wound in his chest. He recalled what Arthur had said the night before. “Because you’re the only family I have left,” he finally answered.

Arthur’s eyes softened. He looked at Ludwig for a second before tossing his head back and groaning. “Fine, but you’re paying for your own damn ticket.”

“Understood,” Ludwig replied. It dawned on him just how big of a decision he’d made. Sure, the ticket would cost him over a month’s salary, but there were other things he had to worry about as well. Once they arrived in West Berlin, he would have to find a new job, a new house, and a new car. It would be like building a whole new life from scratch. He was sure he could endure it though. It wasn’t the first time he pulled a stunt like this.

Ludwig felt something soft rubbing against his legs. He looked down to see the Maltese puppy sitting between his feet and staring back up at him. Tino giggled as he picked the puppy up. “It looks like Hanatamago likes you.”

“Hanata-what now?”

“Hanatamago,” Tino corrected. “She’s usually not so social around strangers, so you must seem really special to her.” He held the puppy towards Ludwig. “You can hold her if you want.”

Not wanting to turn down a chance to pet a dog, Ludwig accepted. As he held the Maltese in his arms, she placed her front paws against his chest and licked his chin. Ludwig smiled as he wiped the slobber off his face. He felt flattered by the attention this reportedly shy dog was giving him.

Arthur opened the driver’s side door and entered the car. He poked his head back out to look at Tino.

“Um, Tino, the gun isn’t loaded, right?”

Tino responded with words of assurance, which piqued Ludwig’s curiosity. “You have a gun?” he asked.

Tino nodded. “Yeah, it’s an AVS-36. Ever heard of it?” Ludwig shook his head. He’d learned how to shoot a gun when he was younger, but he’d never familiarized himself with specific names. “It’s a Russian automatic rifle. I’m a pretty good shot with it if I say so myself. Maybe I’ll show you it sometime.”

Learning that Tino had a gun unsettled Ludwig a bit. With every passing second, Tino somehow grew more and more unnerving. He took the Maltese puppy back from Ludwig, much to the German's dissatisfaction. “Will you be riding in the car with us?” Tino asked.

“I’ll take my own car.”

Arthur called out from the driver’s seat again. “We’re going to the Southend Airport in Rochford. I’ve driven down there a few times, so you can just follow us.”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright then, we’ll meet you there.”

After Tino climbed into the car and Arthur turned on the ignition, Ludwig walked outside and made his way to his own car. He rested his head on the steering wheel and sighed from exhaustion. This morning had not turned out the way he’d expected.


	4. Sky High

_April 1945_

_Berlin, Germany_

_Ludwig had never hopped a freight train before. The prospect would have been thrilling to other boys his age, but to him, it was terrifying. He worried about the Soviet soldiers patrolling the area and what they would do to him if he got caught. He kept walking towards the freight yard though. Whatever they did couldn’t be much worse than starving alone in a war-torn city._  
  
_He looked around at the city of Berlin, or rather, what was left of it. The air raids had reduced entire city blocks to rubble, forcing half of the citizens to flee. The Soviets had taken over Berlin and replaced the ominous red flags of the Third Reich with that of their own. The fate of Germany was in the Allies’ hands now. The war had taken everything from him. His brother, his father, his dog, and now his own country. They were gone. All he had left was a bag of stolen food, a Hitler Youth-issued knife, and an intense desire to run. Where he would go, he had no clue. He only knew one thing. He was never coming back._

 

Ludwig was aware that Tino’s explanation was bizarre, insane even. He never imagined Arthur as the type of person to get involved with this sort of thing. He still had many burning questions he was too afraid to ask. What did Arthur have that made him so valuable to the Red Army? How long had they been chasing after him? How was Tino, possibly the strangest man Ludwig ever met, linked to all of this? Ludwig decided not to push the subject any further. It seemed to be too sensitive of a topic for Arthur to discuss.

After he pulled into the airport parking lot, Ludwig ran a hand through his hair. It was matted and tangled. He realized that he hadn’t combed his hair, brushed his teeth, or showered since yesterday morning. As he looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror, he muttered a curse under his breath. He looked terrible, and he probably didn’t smell too great either.

Ludwig was embarrassed. In the movies, flying was always depicted as a high-class affair, something you had to dress up for. And here he was looking like he’d just woken up.

A tapping on the car window caught his attention. He looked over to find Arthur hunched over and peering through the glass. Ludwig rolled down the window to see what he wanted.

“Quit sulking and come out, will you?” Arthur said. “My luggage isn’t going to carry itself.”

Ludwig rolled his eyes, although he wasn’t really offended. He was just going through the motions of Arthur’s teasing. Arthur’s tone meant one good thing though. It meant there weren’t any hard feelings between them. Arthur was odd like that.

Ludwig came out of his car and walked over to Arthur’s. Tino stood outside as he pulled the black case from the backseat. It occurred to Ludwig that must have been where Tino kept his rifle. Arthur unlocked the trunk and held up the lid so that Ludwig could pull out the suitcase. The three of them made their way toward the entrance. The Maltese came along too, Tino holding her to his chest with one hand.

As they walked, Tino looked Ludwig up and down again, making him uncomfortable. A playful grin appeared on his face. “Say, you’re pretty strong, German.”

Arthur seemed to read his mind. “Don’t get any ideas, Tino,” he said. “He’s not much of a fighter.”

Ludwig felt the urge to interject, but kept quiet. After all, what Arthur said was true. Ludwig was born and raised for fighting, but he wasn’t too fond of the concept. Not anymore, anyway.

Tino shrugged and said, “Still, a man like him could be useful, should the time come.”

Ludwig’s body tensed up, and he immediately took a deep breath to relax. Tino and Arthur’s cryptic dialogue disturbed him greatly, but the last thing he wanted was to show it.

As they passed through the entrance to the airport, Arthur whispered to Ludwig lowly. “It’s still not too late to back out of this.”

“I’m sure my mind’s made up,” Ludwig responded.

The tickets had to be purchased at the front desk. When the receptionist looked up to greet them, she seemed surprised. Ludwig couldn’t blame her. He was unkempt, Arthur was visibly exhausted, and God knows what Tino’s situation was. They looked like suspicious characters, and the receptionist’s attempts to pretend otherwise were thinly veiled.

They didn’t have the money to pay upfront, so they had to use their credit cards instead. Arthur seemed more annoyed than concerned at this, staring contemptuously at Tino as he handed his card over to be swiped. Ludwig was a little more reluctant, but gave the receptionist his card anyway.

After checking Arthur and Tino's luggage and handing over Tino's puppy to be loaded into the cargo hold, the three waited in the departure terminal. That gave Ludwig time to reconsider leaving so soon. Sure, he’d run away before, but things were less complicated back then. Back then, he didn’t own an apartment or car, there weren’t any people to wonder where he was, and he wasn’t being set back two hundred pounds to travel. All those factors would cause problems that couldn’t be easily solved once he landed in West Berlin. The whole situation felt too unusual to be real. Like he was trapped in an unending dream. Why couldn’t he wake up?

“Stop it.” Arthur snapped, breaking the silence and causing Ludwig to lose his train of thought.

“Stop what?” Ludwig asked.

“That damned lip biting thing. Don‘t act like I don‘t know what it means. If this bothers you so much you can just cancel your flight. No need to act all courageous with me.”

“I’m not doing this to prove a point,” Ludwig said firmly. If Arthur really was entangled with the Red Army and its supposedly terrifying leader, Ludwig didn’t want him to deal with that alone. Arthur was as reckless as he was fearless, a frightening combination. He needed someone to keep him grounded in reality. Otherwise, well, he didn’t want to think about what could happen.

Ludwig had another reason to board the plane, but he denied it in fear of it being selfish. As much as he enjoyed quiet and solitude, sometimes it felt as if loneliness was his only companion. Arthur was the only proof to the contrary, and he needed that. Sometimes he’d catch himself daydreaming about living in a house with Arthur, spending their days reading, baking, walking through the woods, and just enjoying each other’s presence. It would be heaven on earth. But Ludwig would always push those thoughts out of his head as quickly as they came. No good came from indulging in childish fantasies. It wasn’t as if they would come true, anyway.

Ludwig brought his hand to his lower lip. It was chapped and sore from years of habitual biting. It was a nervous tick of his, and he never really noticed he was doing it until either someone else pointed it out or it caused himself to bleed. He pulled a round tin of medicated lip balm from his pocket and applied it to his lips. He always carried a tin with him, ever since Arthur’s mother suggested it. One habit to combat another.

Ludwig got an odd feeling that he was being watched. He looked over to see Tino staring at him again, like he was some puzzle to be solved. His eyes were so vacant, but somehow so focused. Ludwig couldn’t help shivering a bit. Why did Arthur’s friend have to be so weird?

An announcement came over the intercom, calling the passengers to board. An airport staff member led Ludwig, Arthur, Tino, and many others into the jetway.

Through the windows of the jetway, Ludwig saw the many activities occurring outside and around the plane. Mechanics checked the plane’s giant jet engines, men loaded luggage into strangely shaped containers, and a conveyer belt moved packages and letters inside the airplane.

“Look!” Tino pointed to some place outside. “It’s Hanatamago.” Ludwig looked where Tino was pointing. On the ground, two men were placing Tino’s puppy into a small metal crate.

“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” Tino turned to Ludwig, seeming to expect reassurance.

“Oh, um, she should be okay. They’ll take care of her,” Ludwig said, even though he didn’t consider himself an expert on the subject. If it were his dog being loaded into the belly of a jet airplane, he’d want to hear that kind of answer too.

When they walked into the plane, Ludwig was taken aback by how spacious and clean the cabin was. It was almost like the movies. That caused Ludwig to realize something. Flying was supposed to be a luxury reserved for the wealthy. If he was going to get himself two hundred pounds in debt, he might as well enjoy the experience that came with it.

“Let’s sit up there,” Arthur said as he gestured to a row near the front of the plane. Not having any reason to argue, Ludwig agreed. They walked to the second row and sat down, Ludwig taking the seat nearest to the window.

Ludwig looked around to see Tino seated a few rows behind him, picking up a light conversation with the woman sitting beside him. “Great,” Arthur said. “Now Tino’s unsupervised.” Judging by his tone, he was only half-joking.

Ludwig looked at Arthur. He was slouched against the seat and resting his head on his hand. The dark circles under his eyes had worsened, and his expression was an odd mixture of fatigued, irritable, and despondent. Wanting to improve Arthur’s mood, Ludwig asked a question. “Do you have any more of those ghost stories you’d like to share?”

Arthur glanced at him with half-lidded eyes. “I think I’ve had my fair share of ghosts for one day,” he said. Ludwig didn’t understand what Arthur meant, but he decided not to pry. He tried again, this time with a question he was genuinely curious about.

“Why did you choose to fly when the fares are so expensive?”

“You try being hunted down by an absolute madman. Let’s see how fast you’d want to get out of the country.”

Fair enough, Ludwig thought. “Then why West Berlin of all places?”

“It’s the only place where I can get help. I wasn’t lying when I said I was visiting one of Dad’s old friends. Do you remember that fighter pilot that came to visit us when we were kids?”

“The American?” Ludwig asked.

“Yeah, that’s who I'm seeing. He’s been living in West Berlin for a while now. We’ve kept in touch ever since Mum and Dad, uh, you know…”

Ludwig knew. It was something he mentally referred to as “the incident”. It was a vague and detached way to refer to something that affected him and Arthur all too well. No one really knew what happened during the incident, no one except Arthur. They only knew the aftermath. Arthur’s younger brother, Seamus, had been found dead on the living room floor with his skull crushed in, and the rest of his family had disappeared without a trace. It was obvious that Seamus had been murdered, and, based on what little Arthur said about it, he was forced to watch his little brother die. The police were unable to find any clues as to who the murderer was. They tried talking to Arthur, but he was too traumatized to share the details. Rumor had it that Arthur was the culprit, which only made matters worse. As for the rest of Arthur’s family, no one could figure out where they went.

Over a decade later, the murderer still hadn’t been caught, Arthur’s family was still missing, and Arthur still refused to talk about what happened.

Ludwig put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Arthur brushed Ludwig’s hand away. “I’m fine. I just, uh…” He looked at Ludwig as if he was going to say something important. Instead, he brought his gaze to his lap and said, “I’m just tired, that’s all.” As if to prove it, he yawned deeply. “I think I should catch up on some sleep before we arrive.”

“Do you need a blanket?” Ludwig asked. “I could ask the stewardess for one.”

“No, no, I’m fine. You really do worry too much about me. Honestly, if you showed this much concern towards women, they’d be all over you.”

“It's a good thing I don't care much for dating, then,” Ludwig said. No matter how many times Arthur insisted on introducing him to a woman, Ludwig’s answer was always the same. He wasn't going to date someone he knew he didn't feel anything for. That would just be cruel for everyone involved.

When Ludwig looked back over at Arthur, he was already fast asleep with his arms crossed and his mouth hanging open. Ludwig gave a suppressed laugh. Arthur was many things, but a pretty sleeper was not one of them. Ironically, it was kind of cute.

Ludwig sighed and rubbed his temples. In the span of mere hours, the course of his life had changed. Whether it was for the better or for the worse, he hadn’t decided yet. It was just stressful. When the stewardess came by, he asked her for a beer to calm his nerves. He also asked for a blanket, just in case Arthur changed his mind.


End file.
